


Ticking Down and Ticking Off

by ToukoTai



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen, M/M, Platonic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Timers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 13:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7535119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToukoTai/pseuds/ToukoTai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Losing a soulmate is a terrible horrible thing. York is learning exactly how much following the untimely death of Carolina. Then the universe sends him a new one. Except Washington is a different kind of soulmate.</p>
<p>It takes them a few weeks to figure that out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ticking Down and Ticking Off

**Author's Note:**

> This was written a couple years ago, I'm still in the slow process of moving my fics over from my tumblr to here.  
> A good friend of mine requested york/wash, he got this and he was very happy.

It’s been a month.

It’s been a month of feeling like he’s underwater, of picking out the last outfit his wife will ever wear, of having people talk around and at him in hushed, quiet tones. Of waking up every day to the person shaped hole in his life. It’s been a month and numbers re-appear on York’s wrist.

He starts laughing, howling really, until he cries. He’s in the bathroom and no amount of scrubbing has removed the black, block numbers.

Carolina’s been dead for one whole month and there’s a new countdown on his arm.

The numbers look and tick themselves down exactly as they had the first time. On the countdown to Carolina. It’s like the universe is telling him to move on. ‘Hey the love of your life, your soulmate died, but don’t worry! Here’s a spare one.’ What a fucking joke. York doesn't  _need_ another soulmate, he doesn't  _want_ another soulmate.

“It’s not fair.” He complains to North, one night, drunk and weepy and wearing the old college hoodie he had been wearing when he met Carolina. “I  _know_ she was it. I don’t want to love like that again. I don’t want to make her  _less_.” North nods. York dreams of hair as red and dark as magma.

He ignores the numbers, wears long sleeves and wristbands. Avoids looking at it in the shower or when doing the dishes. But he can’t escape from under North’s knowing gaze though.

Even with the effort he puts into ignoring it, he can tell how quickly the count is going down. He tries to stay in when the count gets to the almost single digits. But there’s a library book that’s way far overdue and he can’t help but think that Carolina would be _so_ disappointed with him. All he has to do is just drop it in the drop off box. No human contact needed.

Except, except when he gets there, there’s a librarian emptying the dropbox outside. York sees the guy every time he visits the library, he almost thinks the man sleeps there. He’s maybe a few years younger than York, his nametag had said David, but Carolina, and everyone else come to think of it, called him Washington. York had yet to ask why. He remembers that Washington was Carolina’s favorite librarian, because while he seemed timid, he didn’t scare easily. And he didn’t take her shit. York was practically predisposed to like him and he was fairly confidant that his countdown couldn’t be tied to Washington. He’d see Washington once a week practically.

“Got a return?” Washington asks, squinting up at him, a carton of books from the dropbox at his knees. “Oh,” He says, awkwardly, recognizing York. “Heard about Carolina. I’m sorry.” York just nodded, used to numb feeling whenever someone offered him condolences. He wordlessly reached out with the book and Washington reached up to take it. The sleeve of York’s shirt rode up enough to show his countdown. _:03 :02 :01 :00_ Wash’s fingers brush his at the zero mark. Typical. York’s eyes lock on Wash’s, they stare at each other. York drops the book and runs.

“So your count was up. And you just _left him there_?” York groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He knew it was a bad idea to tell North but he really hadn’t known what else to do. “You didn’t say anything?”

“No! What did you want me to say to him?” York finally snaps. “I’ve been seeing you every week but now that my first soulmate is dead, let’s get it on?’“ North huffs through the phone and York can imagine him rolling his eyes. He picks at the carpet. His knees are pressed to his chest and he’s huddled under his dinning room table. York is ready and willing to admit he’s maybe being a little bit ridiculous.

"It didn’t feel the same.” He says finally. It’s the thing that’s been really bothering him. “When it happened. It didn’t feel the same.” He hears North still. When York had met Carolina, it was like a jolt of electricity went down his spine. His heart had started thudding in his chest, he almost forgot to breathe, he was a sudden convert to love at first sight. The feeling was _intense_ and felt so _real_ that the rest of world felt like a dream. He hadn’t needed to see his timer to know he’d reached zero.

But with this. time, he’d seen the timer run out. And all he’d felt was fear. He didn’t want to erase Carolina with someone else, to replace her. He didn’t want to feel the same. All he really remembers feeling is the fear and thinking ‘those are really intense eyes’ and then he’d run. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Go talk to him, York.” North says finally. “Don’t leave him hanging.”

Washington is at the library counter when York manages to drag himself back the next day.

“Can I talk with you?” York says and Washington shrugs.

“CT, I’m going on break.” A short brunette pokes her head around the corner.

“Got it covered.”

They wind up behind the library, no one else is around and Washington leans against the brick wall of the building.

“Mind if I smoke?” He asks and York shakes his head. He takes the time to study Washington, as more then just a background person to his life. Washington is taller then him, and blonder. But there are brown roots beginning to show. He has dark bags under his eyes and York finds himself wondering how much sleep Washington gets. He looks tense and after taking a few drags on his cigarette, looks only a tiny bit less tense.

“Show me your timer.” Washington quirks an eyebrow at him, but holds out his wrist. His button up shirt is long sleeved. As York pushes back the sleeve impatiently he realizes he doesn’t remember ever seeing Wash in short sleeves, but then his attention is stuck on the black numbers _:00_.

“So what happens now?” Washington takes his cigarette out with the other hand. York shakes his head.

“I don’t know. This isn’t like last time.” He drops Wash’s arm to run frustrated hands through his hair. He still didn’t feel anything. He felt normal, as normal as someone can feel when their soulmate dies and they’re facing down the universe’s idea of a replacement.

“Wanna, I dunno,” Wash tried awkwardly. “Get together for lunch? Tomorrow?” York catches himself nodding. At least Wash seemed just as lost as he was.

“Uh yeah, sure. That uh, that sounds…good?” York tried. Washington smiled awkwardly back.

“You don’t need to do this.” Washington starts with, the next day, once the two are seated in the farthest corner booth in the diner. “I know this must be difficult for you and I just want you to know, that you’re not obligated to do anything.” York looks up from the menu at him. Wash is staring him down steadily. If there’s one thing York has noticed about Wash, it’s that the guy is fucking rock solid.

“Shut up.” He says. “We’re doing this.”

And they do. But both never actually spell out what 'this’ is. It’s not really dating. York doesn’t fall madly in love with Washington and if Wash has fallen madly in love with him, he does a good job of hiding it. The two meet for lunch, meet for dinner on the days they don’t meet for lunch, call to check in when they don’t meet for either.

It’s comforting for York, it’s a no pressure relationship. He has yet to see Washington’s place, Wash has yet to come over to his. Sometimes they’ll go out to the movies and the most risque thing they do is a share a bag of popcorn. Sometimes they’ll go to a coffee shop instead.

York talks about Carolina. Draining the emotional wound so to speak, until it doesn’t hurt to think of her any more, until he can say her name without tripping over it. Washington has his own problems, different from York, no less serious. He’s an insomniac. Doesn’t get near enough sleep, smokes to make up the difference, knows that doesn’t help either.

Oh yeah, and until York’s countdown appeared, he hadn’t even had one.

“It’s not that unusual.” Wash said with a shrug, as York just stared at him. “It’s rare, but not  _that_ rare. I’m-I wasn’t the only person in my grade to not have a count.” York never seeing him in short sleeves makes sense now. It does turn out that Washington is harboring some resentment about this whole affair due to that though and that’s fine, because York is too. What’s not fine is how it gets dragged out.

He’s staring at Washington, as the other smokes outside the diner.

“What?” He frowns, he’s practically in Wash’s face.

“I don’t want to kiss you.” Wash makes a face.

“Good. I don’t want you to kiss me.” York makes a frustrated sound.

“I don’t get it. Our timers ran out.” Washington keeps making that face at him.

“What? Just because our timers ran out we’re supposed to fall head over heels for each other?”

“That’s how it worked before.” York protests. And Wash laughs at him.

“So you saw Carolina, fell in love and were making out within the hour?” York bristles at the slightly mocking edge to Washington’s words.

“Yeah, so?”

“You don’t get it do you?” Washington asks him. Eyes gentle. York hated that look, hated it even more from Wash. He wasn’t a child afterall. He might act immature, but he was still an adult. “I’m not your soulmate, maybe Carolina was, maybe she wasn’t either.” York snarls at him, punches him in the face. And immediately regrets it. Wash’s head snaps to the side from the force, he’s silent for a few seconds and York feels terrible. Wash sniffs and scrunches his nose, turns back to face York. He’s angry now.

“I’m not your soulmate.” He repeats, voice tight. “You are not mine. I’ve lived twenty fucking plus years without one. Without even the thought of one.” He jabs York in the chest. “I was _fine_ with it, I was doing okay on my own. I didn’t need you, I didn't  _want you_! I was just fucking _fine_ before you came along.”

“So was I!” York growls back. “I had a soulmate, she was wonderful, I _love her_. I don’t love you! I don’t get why I had to lose  _her_ and get stuck with you instead!” Washington’s eyes narrow and York knows he’s gone over the line but he doesn’t care. He’s angry and hurting. Over Carolina being gone, over this whole new timer thing with washington. Over Washington saying he’s not York’s soulmate.

“I don’t care what any damn number has to say.” Wash drops his cigarette and grinds it out with his shoe. “This is my life. This is your life. If you don’t want anything to do with this. Then that’s fine, more then fine, by me. Just say the word.”

“You’d be fine with me walking away. Right here, right now?” York asks.

“Yes.” Wash hisses at him. So York does. He turns around and stalks away. Doesn’t look back and Washington doesn’t stop him either.

He makes it a week before he breaks down. It’s a week first spent in sullen anger and then missing Wash and finally wondering if Washington was going to bed on time. Wondering if he was sleeping through the full night, or waking up in fits and starts like York was. Wondering if he was getting more stressed organizing the book sale fundraiser coming up over the weekend. Wondering if he was up to a pack a day yet. Wondering what he was doing for lunch now. Just wondering wondering wondering.

It hits York on Friday that, holy shit, he _does_ love Washington. Just not the same way he loved-loves Carolina. (Because he’ll never stop loving her and he’s finally realized that that’s okay.) He goes down to the library after he’s recovered from that revelation.

He can see from the door, that Wash looks more stressed and tried then usual. His tie is crooked, his hair is just this side of kinda, sorta tamed and his general air is of a man walking the edge of a cliff.

“I sure hope you have some good news.” CT, Wash’s coworker is next to him suddenly and he has to slap a hand over his mouth to smother the surprised yelp. “He’s been a wreck all week.” She says.

“I got this.” York squeaks at her.

“Sure hope you do.” She smiles at him, with her teeth. York laughs nervously and then wades through a small crowd of children to where Washington is. Wash’s eyes narrow at him and his lip curls. But York braves through it.

“Can we talk?”

“No.” Wash snaps, just as CT swoops in.

“Oh look Wash, it’s time for your break. Beat it.” So York and Washington wind up back behind the library. Washington angrily puffing on a cigarette. And York finds he doesn’t quite know how to proceed. So he does what he does best, he wings it.

“I want you to sleep a whole night through.”

“What?” York’s encouraged by the surprise instead of the previous anger.

“I want you to get a full eight hours, possibly more, of uninterrupted sleep.” Wash is staring at him like he’s gone off the deep end, and maybe he has. “I want you to stop smoking so much. It’s not healthy.” Wash has gone from staring to looking extremely confused. “I want to get you a rescue kitten because you make sad puppy eyes every time we pass a cat in the street. I want to buy you all the allergy medicine at the drugstore. Because I get pity sneeze-y watching you sometimes man.” Washington still looks supremely confused.

“O…kay?” He says. “I’m still not sure what you’re trying to say?” And York sighs.

“I don’t want to have sex with you and the thought of anything but platonic friend smooches makes me gag. But I’m pretty sure I love you.” Washington blinks at him.

“Really?” York nods at him. Washington opens and closes his mouth. It’s actually somewhat amusing. “I’m sorry about the things I said.” Is what finally comes out. “I was frustrated because you seemed to want me to be a replacement for Carolina.” York grins a little.

“Seemed a bit more then that.” Wash opens his mouth, but York continues. “But yeah, I get it. I’m sorry about what I said and how I acted. I’m just…” He trailed off.

“Missing her?” Wash supplied.

“Yeah. So what I mean is, can we start over?” Wash eyes him, looks him up and down, takes another drag of his cigarette.

“Yeah, okay. I’m game.”

Half a year later, they’re still not dating, probably never will be. They still get into fights. They get lunch together and dinner, they call to check in if they have to skip. Washington makes really good pasta and scrambled eggs, but burns everything else. York’s decent enough that they don’t starve or eat out all the time. They both go to the shooting range when life gets to be too much.

York moves into Washington’s apartment, because his old place is full of memories of Carolina and it’s time to move on. Washington still has his insomnia, though not as bad. Sometimes they sleep together, in the sense that some nights York doesn’t want to be alone and other nights Washington can’t stand the sound of his own silence. So they slip into the other’s bed and curl around each other. But there are other nights where they need their space, they have separate rooms for a reason.

Washington brings home audio books for York and York keeps setting Wash on blind dates without telling him. Sometimes Washington tells York what it’s like growing up without a timer and sometimes York tells Wash what it’s like to lose half your soul. York gets Wash the rescue kitten, he names it Delta. Washington does the laundry and brings home dvd’s for them to watch. They argue about news, about music, about sports.

They talk, they laugh, they cry, they live.


End file.
